


Leg Day

by ZombieLieutenant



Series: Leg Day verse [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1578416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieLieutenant/pseuds/ZombieLieutenant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s a leg day.”</p><p>“Today’s a break.”</p><p>“A break from running. Not from working your legs.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leg Day

Waking up to him yelling is one of the worst ways to wake up. Not the crying of junior or Caboose screaming about breakfast. No, even waking up to Church screaming about another conspiracy around his existence would be welcome at this point. Anything really.

But no. This asshole just has to burst into his room every single god damn morning and yell at him about not setting his alarm again, and being late for morning roll call, and oh god how dare he sleep naked. Lazily he sat up in his bed and rolled his head towards the freelancer. His bright brown eyes glared.

“Ugh, shut up. I’ve been doing your stupid drills every day for the past three weeks. Give me a god damn break for once,” Tucker complained. His muscles were aching. They seemed to always be aching. His back felt like hooks had ripped it apart. A dull, constant pain was always felt on the soles of his feet. And his _legs_. Fuck. All the way from his calves to the top of his thighs and-

“What, do you think this fucking summer camp? You’re a soldier. You don’t _get_ breaks. Get up. Get outside. And for fucks sake, put some fucking clothing on!” Washington barked.

“What, like what you see?” Tucker asked with a sly grin. His smile was a bit _too_ effortless. Wash ignored him.

“You’ve got two minutes. Move.”

Tucker groaned as his commanding officer shut the door behind him. Christ was he ever a hard ass. Heh. Hard ass. Tucker let out a sigh and put on his armour. With a groan he left his room and made his way outside. The harsh sunlight blinded him for a moment until his helmet adjusted the lighting. Standing in front of the base was Wash, Caboose and… Freckles… That god damn robot gave Tucker the creeps. He did _not_ like spending any more time than necessary around that thing. He could feel Wash’s glare behind his helmet.

“Now that we’re finally all here, it’s time to go over today’s agenda. I was planning on a standard stretching exercise to start the day. However, after an enlightening conversation with Tucker here, I have deemed a more acceptable drill. Two laps of the Bravo obstacle course should be a nice break from your monotony.” Fuck, Tucker could swear he could _hear_ the god damn shit eating grin Wash was wearing. That crooked, dominating grin. What a fucking asshole. So this is how he was going to play?

“Fuck that. I asked for a break, not for more work.”

Caboose looked over to Tucker and leaned his head forward and raised his shoulders.

“Tucker, I don’t think that that’s a good idea to say.”

“Why not?”

“ARE YOU DISOBEYING YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER’S COMMAND?” Freckles threatened. The robotic voice threw Tucker back.

“Uh, uh no! Of course not. I’ll do it,” Tucker said. The robot lowered its… arms…?

“Hurray! I love obstacle courses. You get to play the game where you pretend to be an action man and adventure! Yes. And I will be the best! Of all the action mans! So then I can stay being the best friend,’ Caboose said. Tucker looked down at the ground.

“Alright then. Looks like we’re all clear. Caboose, go start off the course. I have something to discuss with Tucker first,” Wash ordered. Caboose nodded and ran enthusiastically towards the cave. Freckles followed behind.

Dropped his shoulders as Wash turned to him. The man rolled his head back and looked up at the bluebird sky.

“So what the fuck do you want, mister big shot?” Tucker sighed. He lowered his gaze to see Agent Washington walking towards him. Tucker refused to admit it, but there was something powerful and exciting about his strides. The freelancer stopped less than a foot away from him.

“I want to know what you consider a break. Enlighten me.”

Tucker had to admit: he wasn’t feeling comfortable with the proximity the other man was in. It was just him acting like a big scary man, though. It was part of his ploy. If Tucker backed away he would be showing submission. Bow chicka bow wow- no. No. Not the time, Tucker. Not in front of a man. Not because of a man. Despite feeling unsettled, Tucker refused to back down or even lower his head. Two could play at this game.

“Practically every day is the same fucking bullshit. And even if it’s a little different in the set up like today, it’s still the fucking same. It’s another god damn leg day doing the same fucking running around like a chicken with its head chopped off. It’s getting really stale. A break would be not doing this running bullshit for once. You know. A fucking _break._ ”

“…”

The silence enveloped them. Washington was waiting for it. Tucker was trying to resist it. Why did he have to say it like that? A beat.

“Well, nice to see that-”

“Bowchickabowwow.”

“God’s sake Tucker is that all you ever think about? Shit.”

“Well I mean someone in this box canyon has to.” Tucker rolled his head down to look at Wash dead in the face. Er, helmet. He noticed that their breathing was in sync. Rhythmical. Heavy. Wash sighed and backed down first. It was a victory for Tucker, but he couldn’t help but feel disheartened about how easy it came.

Bow chicka bow wow.

“Fine. Break from running. Go back to your quarters.”

“Yeah! Wait, are you serious?” Asked Tucker.

“That’s an order!”

Tucker wasted no time going back to his room. He had no idea what was going on with Wash, but it was best not to think about it. He was getting a break. Finally! The man smiled as he dropped himself on his bed. He lazily removed his armour and kicked it across the room towards the wall. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Why was his breathing so heavy? What was it that Tucker was feeling… disappointment? It confused him to no end. Fuck, this is supposed to be a break. He wasn’t going to let Wash ruin it for him. A sigh escaped him and he fell backwards into his mattress. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift. Why wasn’t Wash leaving his mind? Why was the thought of how his commanding officer acted replaying over and over in his mind? He then felt a breath on his face. Tucker opened his eyes to see Wash leaning over him. Straight on though, not from the side.  As in, right on top of him.

“How the fuck-?”

“Trained in stealth.”

“Uhm, and what are you doing here?”

“It’s a leg day.”

“Today’s a break.”

“A break from running. Not from working your legs,” barked Washington. Tucker had to admit: he was impressed. Not only had the commanding officer used Tucker’s lazy words against him, but he was also challenging him in a game of chicken. Obviously this was some way for Wash to try and scare Tucker into doing the stupid obstacle course. Two could play at this game. Especially if Wash was going to use that low, commanding voice. Tucker grinned and decided to call his bluff.

“Alright then. How will I be working my legs lying down with you leaning over top of me? Enlighten me, jackass.”

Tucker could swear he could see a flash of panic in Wash’s eyes hear his sharp inhale. The older man gave a low growl. How could he make such an amazing sound?

“Support my weight with your thighs and take off my chest piece.”

“W-what?”

“That’s an order!” Wash yelled, a small break in his voice. Tucker wasn’t going to back down now. He was only going to do this to win the game. Be the bigger man. Get a close up glimpse of Wash’s body… The younger man spread his legs apart and clamped his thighs down on Wash’s hips. Propping up his superior was more difficult than he thought. He wrapped his arms around the torso and felt for the clasps on the side of the armour. He clicked it off with a grunt. Then he moved towards Wash’s shoulders to release the front torso piece. With a pull, he was able to pull the piece away from Wash’s torso. He placed it on the ground beside him. Tucker looked up at his superior.  His morph suit showed every contour of his body. Shit. Tucker knew that Wash would be in shape but… wow. He felt his dick sharing the sentiment. No. Stop that. Down, boy.

“Now the back piece,” Wash instructed. Tucker propped his hands on either side of the back plate and with effort pushed it off. It landed on the back of his superior’s calves, who brushed it off of the bed. No wonder it was difficult to hold up Wash. His upper body was just pure muscle. Christ. Wash then sighed and leaned back, off of Tucker’s thighs. He was sitting upright on Tucker’s bed, between the younger man’s legs. Tucker scoffed.

“Is that it?” He asked, sitting up. His chest twitched. Wash was removing the armour on his arms. Damn were those nice arms. It wasn’t until he removed his helmet to reveal that god damn shit eating grin that Tucker realized he was staring.

“Like what you see?” He asked, mockingly. Tucker didn’t do anything. He didn’t know what to say or do except try his god damn hardest to stop his growing erection. Wash was a dude. A man. A guy. His dick needed to calm down. Think about dead puppies think about dead puppies think about dead puppies…

“Answer. Now. That’s an order.” Tucker finally snapped out of his thoughts and stared right into those grey eyes.

“I dunno. I’d have to see more,” he replied. Just for the game. Only the game. There was no other motive in his words. Wash rolled his eyes. For some reason this worried Tucker. He didn’t want the game to end so soon though. Yeah, he wanted to win. But it wouldn’t hurt for it to go on for longer.

He couldn’t keep himself from smiling when his commanding officer started to remove his boots and leg pieces. The last bit of armour remaining was his cod piece. He stood beside the bed, hands on his hips, staring at Tucker.

“You’ll be using only the strength in your legs to remove this,” explained Wash. Tucker choked on his spit.

“What the fuck? Do you have any idea how fucking hard that’s going to be?”

“You should have the leg strength by now. Unless if you want to run the obstacle course instead.”

“That’s pretty gay,” Tucker said, moving himself to the edge of the bed.

“Chicken.”

Oh no he was not going there. Tucker wasn’t a god damn chicken and he would prove it to Wash. He wanted to prove it to Wash. He felt another twitch from his groin. Fuck. He prayed that Wash wouldn’t notice. The younger man clamped his superior’s codpiece with both legs.

“I’ve undone the clasps. You should _easily_ be able to remove it,” Wash explained. Tucker could see a flash in his eyes. Was he excited? The younger man tried to ignore it and with a powerful tug pulled down his superior’s cod piece. He winced. Christ, that was _not_ easy god damn it, Wash. He raised his head to see Wash’s crotch just at eyelevel. Just as with his upper body, Tucker could see every contour of his superior’s body. Especially the hard on his superior was sporting. Despite the fear that leapt into his chest, Tucker made an effort to sound confident.

“Heh, I knew you liked what you saw. Just couldn’t keep away from the Tucker, huh? Not that I blame you. Pretty gay, though.”

Washington let out a laugh. A hoarse, vibrating laugh.

“And the erection you’ve had since I walked in your room is _so_ heterosexual.” Tucker swore. God damn it dick, how could he betray Tucker like that? It was just a curse that he was able to get hard to easily. Especially the more time he spent around his superior in this box canyon…

“Glad to see I finally figured out how to shut you up,” Wash said. No, Tucker was not going to lose this god damn game.

“You wish. So we done with my legs for today?” Tucker asked. He tried to hide his concern about Wash’s response.

“We’re not done until you can’t walk anymore,” Wash ordered. With one fluid motion Tucker found his sweatpants bunched by his feet. He felt his heart skip a beat as Wash took a step towards him and give such an intense stare. Those grey eyes were just so damn powerful. Fuck. He could lose himself in those eyes. A shiver erupted from his groin and made its way to every inch of Tucker’s body. Wash’s hand was on his dick. _Wash’s hand was on his dick._ A small moan escaped from Tucker’s lips. He mentally cursed at himself.

“Shit, Tucker. I haven’t even done anything yet,” Wash said in that low, deep voice. That shit eating grin that Tucker knew all too well grew on his superior’s face. And he didn’t even care. He didn’t remember how damn _amazing_ it felt to have someone else’s hand. And Wash’s hand was powerful. Controlling. And just damn sexy. After a moment he realized that Wash wasn’t doing anything. Just standing there with Tucker’s dick in his hand.

“Fuck, Wash. I know my dick’s amazing but I thought you’d know what to do with it.” Wash grinned at his subordinate.

“You’re using your legs to do this.” Tucker groaned. His legs were still aching.

“Aw fuck you.”

“Not this time.” This interested Tucker. _This_ time? Tucker started to buck his hips but winced when Wash squeezed harder.

“Not with your hips. With your legs,” ordered Wash. Tucker glared at the older man. “Or I could just stop,” Wash teased, loosening his grip on Tucker’s cock.

“No!” Tucker yelped. Wash raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“No?” he mocked. Tucker felt his face becoming flushed. He didn’t mean to sound so desperate. Not to Wash of all people.

“I mean, don’t jump to conclusions so quickly. I’ll use my legs now just shut up.”

Tucker tried to ignore Wash’s laugh. That god damn sexy laugh. He positioned his calves  against Wash’s torso. He moved his superior away from him and shuddered. Wash’s hand moved with the rest of his body all the way down his shaft to the very tip. He moaned as his superior pushed his thumb on his slit and spread his pre-cum over the head. Tucker then pulled his legs back towards him, feeling the pre-cum coat the side of his dick. His dick was throbbing. It had just been too long and this asshole was just too good looking and oh, fuck.

His legs were shaking they ached so much. With every ounce of his strength he forced Wash’s hand to continue to stroke his dick. He arched his dick and moaned.

“You sound like a bitch,” Wash said. He couldn’t hide his smirk.

“Your… bitch…” Tucker choked out between strokes. His dick was throbbing with pressure. The closer he got, the weaker his legs became. It took every ounce of his strength to move Wash towards him. He panted. Tucker tried to move Wash back again but couldn’t. His legs gave out. The younger man whined. In a last ditch effort for release he moved his hand towards is cock. Wash swiped it back.

“Did I say you could stroke yourself?”

“W-Wash I, I can’t anymore, my legs…”

Tucker whined. How did he even end up in this position? He couldn’t believe that Wash was now going to leave him- O-Oh. Oh. _Oh._ He looked down to see Wash intently stroking his dick. How was it that his superior looked so damn _hot_ stroking his cock?

“Wash, I’m.. I...”

Wash moved his fingers with such _skill._ Tucker’s eyes rolled back and he arched his back. Hot, sticky cum exploded onto Wash’s chest. The younger man collapsed onto his back. His entire body was jelly. He gave a goofy grin in the after glow. Wash gave a small laugh. Tucker couldn’t find his voice and gave a questioning grunt.

“You were right. I do like what I see,” Wash said. Almost effortlessly the commanding officer picked up his armour and left Tucker alone in his room.

Alone on his bed Tucker smiled.

_Next time._


End file.
